


Numb

by denyingmyselfalways



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Avengers Family, Gen, Infinity War angst, Infinity War-compliant, Not coping, So much angst, Tony Stark Friendly, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, im still not over it, steve rogers friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denyingmyselfalways/pseuds/denyingmyselfalways
Summary: “Welcome back,” he said as they stepped into the building. “Your rooms are the same as they were before, there’ll be a meeting in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. Anyone who’s tardy gets locked out.”It took a second for Steve to register that Tony was joking around because of the monotone way he delivered it. There was no emotion in his voice, cynical or otherwise. He was almost robotic, uncaring, smiling at them like they’d never left, but it wasn’t the same smile. It was plastic, a mask.Then Tony met Steve’s eyes, and Steve’s heart sunk at their emptiness.Something was very, very wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots and lots of angst, sorry guys! I hope you enjoy!

It took four weeks for them to get their act together. Two and a half weeks were spent in irrevocable grief. Half a week for repairing their gear. The last week for coming together and planning and supporting and working through their issues.

But it was finally time to head home. Back to an inevitably grieving Tony who’d only contacted once to tell them that he was back on earth and that Pepper was okay. Despite everything that happened, Steve wanted to go home. He’d missed Tony.

They loaded everyone into a couple quinjets, excluding a still-traumatized Shuri, and began the long flight back home. No one spoke, they were too tired, too depressed, too _numb_ to even move, much less converse. The planning and scheming had drained them all emotionally, as anything they could possibly think up wouldn’t work without knowing where Thanos was.

However, as they neared New York, Steve felt a small weight lift from his chest, not enough to feel happy, just enough to feel _something_.

He’d been emotionless for days ever since the snap… ever since Bucky… He slammed his eyes shut, leaning forward and scrubbing his face with his hands. _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it._ Once the numbness stopped about a week ago, he’d been practically crying nonstop. But this was not a time for mourning. Right now, he needed to focus.

They sent Tony a message as soon as they passed the city limits, telling him that they were almost there, but they didn’t receive a response. Ten more minutes and they were there, landing on the platform and filing out, still not speaking, but they stayed close, drawing comfort from the others’ presence. The would get through, together.

Tony was waiting for them at the entrance.

Steve wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the fact that Tony wasn’t blackout drunk and blaming himself for everything, or the fact that he was smiling a little, almost as if he were glad to see them.

“Welcome back,” he said as they stepped into the building. “Your rooms are the same as they were before, there’ll be a meeting in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. Anyone who’s tardy gets locked out.”

It took a second for Steve to register that Tony was joking around because of the monotone way he delivered it. There was no emotion in his voice, cynical or otherwise. He was almost robotic, uncaring, smiling at them like they’d never left, but it wasn’t the same smile. It was plastic, a mask.

Then Tony met Steve’s eyes, and Steve’s heart sunk at their emptiness.

Something was very, very wrong.

 

 

It took Steve five minutes to find his room again. To be fair, it had been three years and the compound had so many levels and hallways, it was hard to keep track, especially with the entire building being abandoned and no one to ask except Tony. Once he found it, he unloaded what little he’d taken with him, doing a quick cleanup of stuff he’d left out on the floor for three years. It was obvious that Tony hadn’t even stepped in his room during that time, everything was exactly as he left it. Steve wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but even still it was disappointing to know that Tony hadn’t wanted anything to do with him.

_Stop pitying yourself, you deserve his hate for what you did to him._

Steve stripped off his sweaty clothes, pulling a random t-shirt and pair of sweatpants from his dresser and putting them on. He’d been in formal clothes for so long, it felt good to be wearing sweats.

He checked the time. Twenty minutes until they were to gather in the kitchen. He sighed, unsure what to do with himself. He didn’t have enough time to immerse in his own thoughts, because that would eventually lead to crying and he didn’t think that it would be best to go downstairs with red eyes because he had to be strong. He had to be strong for the rest of them.

Steve took a deep breath, eyes scanning his room. He’d go say hi to Pepper if Tony hadn’t lied and she was truly fine. Perhaps she could help him figure out what Tony was going through.

“FRIDAY?” he asked tentatively.

It took a moment for her to respond. “Yes, Mr. Rogers?”

Damn, Tony’s AI’s and robots were loyal. She somehow made even his name sting like an insult.

“Could you inform me where Ms. Potts is?”

Again, the spiteful hesitation. “She is in the west wing, working. However, I may warn you that she may not appreciate your presence.”

Steve huffed a humorless laugh. “Who would?”

 

She was indeed in the west wing, sitting on a couch and typing furiously on her laptop. She was dressed impeccably as always, even the most minute detail paid attention to. Not a hair out of place, not s speck of excess nail polish, not a single bump in her mascara.

Pepper didn’t notice him enter, tensing a bit when Steve cleared his throat. She blinked at him, her expression turning stern. “Steve.”

“Ms. Potts.”

Silence.

She sighed, closing her laptop and placing it on the couch next to her. “Sit.”

He obliged, letting out a sigh as he did so.

“Is there something you’d like to speak to me about?”

Steve looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “Tony’s not okay.”

“Should he be?” she all but snapped.

Steve shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees. “Let me rephrase that. Who is he grieving for?”

Pepper smiled sadly. “He’s grieving for half of his world, what more can one grieve for?” she said, the phrase littered with hidden meanings that Steve couldn’t begin to decipher.

Steve met Pepper’s eyes and knew she wasn’t going to give him anything, so he nodded slowly and stood. “I’m glad you’re okay. He needs you, you know.”

“He needs his team, too,” she said, standing as well. “Want to walk me down to the meeting? I’m attending as well.”

Steve nodded, disappointed that he hadn’t gotten any new answers from Pepper. He’d have to figure out some other way. Or perhaps she was telling the truth and Tony _was_ just grieving for the universe. It just… it seemed like it was more than that.

 

The silence in the room was stifling. No one said a word.

“You gonna lead the meeting, Stark?” Clint asked, not completely hiding the snark from his voice. He’d shown up at the compound an hour after Nat contacted them and told them they were on their way over.

Tony looked up, almost surprised that they acknowledged his existence. “Hmm? Oh, I just figured someone else would want to.”

Rocket, that talking raccoon thing leaned forward. “If you called the meeting, why didn’t you have a plan for it?” he asked.

Thor chuckled. “Tony often prefers the ‘wing-it’ route.”

Tony smiled sadly. “You know what, big guy? I missed you.”

Thor straightened at that.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Alright, since obviously, a lot happened while Thor and I were gone, would someone please catch us up? I know there was a… a fight.”

“That’s an understatement,” Rhodey muttered under his breath.

“We had some disagreements, we still do, but I think at this point we should put our differences behind us and at least try and do _something_. Help put out fires, see if there’s any way to… I don’t know…” Steve trailed off, not allowing himself to voice his hopes.

“Save everyone,” Bruce finished for him.

Tony barked a humorless laugh. “Save everyone? Half of the universe is _dead_. There’s no coming back from that.”

“Why not?” Nat asked, tilting her head. “If we get our hands on those infinity stones, we could have a chance at reversing this whole thing.”

Something was brewing behind Tony’s eyes that Steve had seen only once before in an airport in Leipzig. It was as if a thousand emotions had been concentrated down and pressed into Tony’s irises.

But as Tony opened his mouth to retort, everything in him seemed to fall away and the emotions died, and he became the shell that he’d been. “I just…” he sighed, shaking his head, “can’t afford to think that way.”

The blue robot girl that Tony had brought back leaned forward. “I won’t allow myself to hope either, Stark, but that doesn’t mean revenge isn’t on the table. I would give anything to find that purple bastard and use the power of his precious stones against him,” she said, sneering.

“What’d he do to you?” Thor asked, sorrowful.

The blue woman’s face twisted into a snarl. “He made me this _thing_. He made me a monster.”

“You and me both,” Tony muttered, and the table fell silent.

Steve studied Tony’s face, searching for some resemblance of the man he thought he’d known, but there was nothing left. He looked numb, as Steve had been for days, but something was different about it. Steve had eventually broken. Cried. Tony looked like he hadn’t shed a single tear for weeks. And Steve knew firsthand how unhealthy that could be. What it could do to your body.

Tony looked up, glancing at the faces of his old team. “Well isn’t this just grand?” he asked, but again, the joke was monotone, falling flat. “I’ve got some stuff for the rest of you down in… down in my lab.” He cleared his throat. Steve frowned at the slip-up, but Tony continued. “Pepper, darling, could you go fetch the items for me?” he asked, turning to where she was sitting on his right.

She nodded, standing up when Clint sneered.

Steve tensed, knowing something was coming because Clint was never really good at keeping his mouth shut.

“Still ordering her around Stark? I thought she wasn’t your assistant anymore.”

Tony looked up, and Steve saw a flicker of _something_ in his eyes, but it was immediately gone, replaced with the emptiness that he still wasn’t used to.

Pepper turned, glaring at Clint with all the rage she could muster at the moment, speaking before Tony could. “I think you should think before you speak Mr. Barton,” she snapped, making the room tremble with the cool anger in her words, and then she walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

Clint at least looked regretful. “I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

Tony waved him off. “Whatever, Clint. It’s not… it’s… nothing.”

And yet it was obviously something. But Steve wouldn’t push. At least not yet.

The blue woman sneered. “So dramatic you humans are.”

Thor turned to her, half-smiling. “Right?” he asked, but the joke died with his sad tone. Thor had lost people too.

Tony sighed again and stood. “Well, that was productive. I’m gonna go… uh, shower I guess.”

“No tinkering?” Nat asked, raising a single, threaded eyebrow. Steve pursed his lips, amused at the huge difference between her subtility and Clint’s complete lack of it.

Tony shook his head. “Nah, I… don’t have anything to work on.” He left before Steve could question that statement.

 

They sort of made a routine. Sit around and sulk for a while. Eat some food. Train until they could almost get their ghosts out of their heads. Sit around and sulk some more. Occasionally converse. Go back to sleep.

It wasn’t the healthiest, but it worked, at least for the moment.

Tony’s upgrades were amazing, as usual, but when Steve tried to compliment them, Tony just waved him off. “It was nothing,” he said, but it wasn’t nothing.

It was something because there was no way Tony’d had these upgrades done before the fight. Which meant that even with everything that had happened, Tony was still trying to look out for them. Trying to keep them alive.

Steve ran his hand over his shield. It was built off his old shield, and you could barely tell the difference that the upgrades made, but Steve knew they were there. He pressed gently against the star in the middle as Tony had instructed, eyes widening when a small screen appeared on the surface of his shield. Three different options peered up at him: ‘yeet’, ‘how did you take down captain america?’, and ‘what do you have?!’

Needless to say, Steve was very confused.

“Uh, Tony…?” he asked looking up to where Tony was sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on his StarkPad. “What do these mean?”

Tony looked up and, for a second, looked like he was going to smile, but it disappeared just as quickly and was replaced with something sad, angry, bitter. “Guess you’ll have to find out. Just don’t fire the ‘yeet’ one in here, cause that may cause some problems.”

Steve furrowed his brow, then shook his head. Sometimes he didn’t understand Tony. He stood and walked out of the living area towards the stairs. Jogging down to the training area, he nodded at Rhodey who was training in his War Machine suit.

He sat on a bench of to the side and pressed the star again, frowning down at the options. He wasn’t in the mood to do anything insane, so he skipped the ‘yeet’ option, as Tony had suggested and pressed the ‘how did you take down captain america’ button. Nothing happened.

Steve cocked his head, pulled the shield into his hand and standing. “I don’t get it…” he muttered.

Rhodey turned from where he was blasting clay pigeons. “Tony’s upgrades?” he asked, and Steve nodded.

“Which one did you pick?”

“Uh… the second one.”

Rhodey smirked, “The take down Captain America one?’

Steve nodded.

“Hold it up,” Rhodey said, motioning for him to shield himself. Steve complied and, before he could react, Rhodey aimed a shot at his legs.

Steve tried to move, but he hadn’t been expecting it and there wasn’t enough time… but the blast seemed to ricochet off of the air in front of him and hit one of the padded walls. Steve blinked. “Woah.”

Rhodey laughed. “It’s not nanotech, but…”

Steve shook his head, “Is it a force field?”

“Something like that. He told me he got the shield to regulate the air pressure around its holder, so as long as that is on, nothing is getting passed the bubble of pressurized air around you.”

“How can I breathe?”

Rhodey shrugged. “I don’t know. Ask Tony, he’s the one who made it.”

Steve huffed. “I don’t know if that’s going to happen any time soon.”

“He still wary of you?”

Steve gave a half-shrug. “A little bit, but that’s not why. He’s just… extremely closed off, you know? I think he blames himself.”

Rhodey barked a laugh, ejecting himself from his suit. “Of course, he does. And he will continue to until this whole thing is fixed.”

Steve hesitated, then: “Can it be fixed?”

Rhodey sighed, “I don’t know, man. I don’t know.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I think I'm going to do one or two more chapters of this and that'll be it. It's not going to be a series or anything, so don't expect one. This is not Avengers: Endgame trailer compliant if you haven't been able to tell already, because I started writing this before it came out.

Nat jogged down the stairs and towards Tony’s lab. It was dark, almost abandoned looking, but Nat pressed her hand against the scanner anyway to see if it would work.

“You are not authorized to enter Boss’s lab,” FRIDAY’s sterile voice interjected as the scanner went red.

“What if I said please?” she muttered, frowning and peering into the glass. It was a mess as always, but it seemed even more so somehow, multiple broken objects littering the floor. The Iron Man poster that used to be hanging on the wall had been torn down.

The glass clouded, and she could no longer see anything.

“Oh, come on, FRIDAY, I need to know what’s wrong with him.”

“Did you try asking _him_?” the AI asked, but Nat didn’t respond, already walking away.

She made her way back to her room, glowering. He was not okay, and he was not coping, and she could not help if she didn’t know who he was grieving for. Or rather, not grieving for.

The sound of a running shower made her pause. She frowned at Tony and Pepper’s closed door, wondering. If that were Tony, that would be the third shower he’d had today. She shook her head. Must be some weird coping mechanism that he’d developed.

Nat sighed, stringing a hand through her hair. Things were never going to be the same.

 

He was an empty shell. It was as if he’d developed an AI that was meant to mimic his actions and uploaded it into his brain. He said the same things. He smiled the same way. He even joked around every once in a while. But his eyes were empty, his tone flat, and his laughter was short and clipped and always bitter.

The only thing that made Nat doubt the fact that he was a robot were those moments of raw, unbridled emotion that he’d have. The emotions would flash across his face and leave just as fast, but they were there.

They were there when Steve mentioned the strange names of his shield upgrades. They were there when Bruce reminisced about working in the lab. They were there when Clint mentioned his now-dusted family. They were there when Rocket talked about Groot. They were there when Shuri called, giving them short updates. They were there whenever he absentmindedly checked his phone for something that was obviously not there. They were there when he left every Saturday and when he returned from who-knows-where exactly an hour later.

The emotions left Nat confused because they showed up at random, disconnected times that had nothing to do with each other. _Who did he lose? Who did he lose? Who did he lose?_

Pepper was no help. She refused to tell them anything. Rhodey claimed he knew nothing, but Nat called bull on that. However, his love for Tony outweighed his fear for her. She didn’t blame him.

Something was wrong, and she was determined to figure it out.

And he was showering now, almost three or four times a day. It was always preceded by those random flash of emotions, then he would get up and leave to wash himself as if he wanted to scrub away any feeling.

The only one he seemed okay with being emotional around now was Pepper. They worked in sync; one look from him and she would go make him some coffee and they’d go to their room and hold each other.

The only one he seemed himself with was Rhodey. He was the only one he joked around, but even with his best friend, the jokes usually fell flat.

With everyone else, he was just _numb, numb, numb, numb._

Empty, broken, _shattered_ , like his soul had disintegrated along with half of the universe.

She wondered who in the world could ruin Tony Stark like that. Pepper, yes, she would have expected that, but Pepper was fine and so was Rhodey, and Nat had checked up on Happy the first moment she could, and he was okay. So, _who_?

Nat huffed in frustration, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail. Today was not a day for aesthetic. She was sparring Clint, which was always interesting, depending on what mood he was in. If he was in a fighting mood, he sometimes even beat her, and today seemed to be one of those days. He was fighting with all the pent-up rage that he’d built up since the snap. He’d lost every single member of his family, after all.

But she was not without fight either. For she’d learned only five days ago that both Fury and Hill were gone, no longer in existence. It had taken a bit of time to get the information because, officially, Fury had been dead long before that, and when she’d found out, she’d even allowed herself to cry. Fury had been like a father to her for many years, and the fact that he was just _gone_ … well, it fueled her pretty well for a good hour of sparring with her best friend.

By the end of the hour, they were both tired, sweaty, and a little less weighed down. It had been a long time since they’d gotten to train together, and Nat had missed it. And by Clint’s small smile, it seemed he missed it too.

They trudged up to the kitchen, slumping into bar stools and trying to catch their breaths. Thor, Steve, Tony, and Bruce were standing across the counter, Thor and Steve both knocking back shots.

Nat asked Bruce to get out the vodka. Alcohol sounded like a pretty good idea right about then.

Clint was offered some, but he shook his head and then groaned rubbing a knot from the back of his neck. “Damn, that hurt. It felt good, but it hurt.”

Nat smirked a little. “I know the feeling.”

He huffed, shaking his head. “It’s been a while since I’ve done any sparring. I don’t feel so good.”

Tony stiffened from the corner of her eye, whipping his head to Clint. “What did you just say?”

 

Steve trudged down the stairs towards the kitchen, unsure where he was going. He just needed to get out of his room, have some human interaction. _Buck. Sam. Wanda. Vision._ He shook his head. Maybe getting some alcohol in his system would do him some good. Thor had left a stash of his Asgardian mead before he’d left, and that stuff kept forever, so maybe he’d see if he could get tipsy on that.

That sounded terribly inviting. He stepped into the kitchen to find Tony, Bruce, and Thor standing at the bar, the latter two recounting some of their adventures back on Asgard.

Steve walked over to the fridge and pulled out the scotch and Thor’s old mead, putting the first bottle on the table and handing the other to Thor. “You’ll do the honors?”

Thor’s face lit up, and he opened it, taking a sniff. “I didn’t know that I’d left this,” he said, his eyes sad. Then he reached up and grabbed the shot glasses from the cabinet. He nodded at the scotch on the counter. “You want a drink, Stark?”

Tony looked up. “Hmm? Oh, no. I don’t drink.”

The three men turned to stare at him.

He blinked at them. “What?”

“Since when?” Bruce asked.

Tony gave a half-shrug. “Since about a couple years ago. My health’s not what it used to be and alcohol kind of just…” his eyes flashed with something that Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on, “lost its appeal.”

Bruce shrugged, taking the bottle of scotch and pouring himself a glass. “To each his own, I guess. I don’t normally drink, but… this seems like an okay time to do it.”

Steve and Thor downed their shots pretty quickly, and Thor’s stories became livelier after that. Bruce only took the one glass, but once Thor started, he couldn’t stop, and Steve wanted to _feel_ it, so the Asgardian mead went pretty fast. Tony, though, true to his word, drank nothing.

Thor was retelling the story of him and the Hulk sparring, this time with much more detail and pizzazz. Bruce was looking at him skeptically, and Tony would almost smile every once in a while, but throughout most of the stories, his face stayed blank, emotionless. Nat and Clint came back up from sparring just as Steve and Thor were finishing up the mead.

Nat asked Bruce for the bottle of vodka, then took a small sip straight out of it. Steve shook his head at her, not understanding how anyone could like the taste of straight vodka.

Clint was complaining in true Clint fashion, and Steve, in his almost-tipsy state found himself content that he was being a little more Clint again. And then it happened.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done any sparring. I don’t feel so good.”

Tony’s whole body went rigid from beside him and he looked like he almost got whiplash from turning so quickly to stare, wide-eyed, at Clint.

“What did you just say?” Tony’s voice was strained, panicked.

“It’s been a while since I’ve sparred?”

“After that.”

“I don’t feel so good.”

Tony seemed to almost collapse in on himself, like the walls he’d been building just fell apart around him. He gave a little gasp, his eyes flickering around the room as if he were searching for something, but he didn’t seem to find it because his hands were shaking, and he looked like he was going to pass out.

“Tony? You alright?”

Tony didn’t answer, choosing to reach forward and hold out his hand for the vodka. Nat handed it to him warily, and he tilted his head back and just chugged for five seconds straight. And then he was walking away towards the stairs, the bottle still in his hand.

“Tony?!”

“I’ll be in my lab,” he said, his voice shaking as bad as his hands. “Don’t disturb me.”

And then he was gone.

Clint rubbed his face with his hands. “Was it something I said?”

Nat met Steve’s gaze and he saw his own concern and confusion and utter _helplessness_ reflected in them. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

 

He was in a haze, sitting against one wall and his face buried in his hands. The bottle was long gone, once he’d emptied what was left of it (don’t worry it was watered down, Tony ain’t dying of alcohol poisoning in this fic), he’d thrown it as far away as possible, and it shattered against a leg of one of his work tables.

But he didn’t care. Or rather, he did, but not about that. For weeks he’d emptied himself of emotions, not letting himself grieve, and it was finally too much. His body literally could not handle the pain any longer, so he finally broke.

He cried and cried and cried because his kid was gone and there was no coming back from that.

He _sobbed_ , everything just falling out of him because he had no more self-control. His kid, _his kid_ was just… gone. Disintegrated. Dead.

He jolted, tilting his head to the side and puking all over the floor. After going a few years without any drinking, his body was not used to his previous habits. His hands were shaking again.

_I don’t feel so good._

“Yeah, you and me both, kid,” he managed, rubbing his face with both hands before a strangled sob shook his whole body again. “You… and me… both.”

And then he was a little out of it, pulling himself to his feet and stumbling out of his lab. The alcohol must have finally caught up with him, because his feet didn’t really know where they were going. Or maybe they did because he found himself back in the kitchen, greeted by a very worried Steve, Nat, and Clint.

“Did Thor… go back to Asgard… or something?” he asked, his brain not quite connected to his tongue.

“Oh, he’s very drunk,” Clint muttered, and Nat elbowed him in the side before stalking forward and slinging an arm around him.

“Stark, you can’t do that to us. You need to get some water in your system,” she said, practically dragging him to the nearest barstool.

He plopped down on it, putting his head in his hands as Steve went over to grab him a glass of water. “Sorry, Tony, I… I thought it would be a good idea to get a little tipsy or something. I didn’t think you’d-”

“It was a _fantastic_ idea. I’ve never… felt better,” Tony said, snorting a little, which is never a good thing to do when you’ve just been crying.

“Was that sarcasm? Perhaps there’s hope yet,” said Clint sitting down on the barstool to his right.

Tony turned to him, stone-faced. “There isn’t.”

Clint’s expression seemed to deflate. “I know.”

Tony tittered a bit, swiping the glass of water from Steve’s outstretched hand. “This sucks, doesn’t it.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Nat leaned forward, resting her elbows against the counter. “So are you going to tell us what’s going on, or continue leaving us in the dark?”

Tony laughed a little, “You… tryin’ to take… advantage of me drunk?”

“No!” Steve said, just as Clint said, “Yes.”

Nat smirked. “We just want to help you, Tony.”

But Tony was no longer listening. He downed the water, eyes glassy, then reached for his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning it on for a second, then completely deflating when all that peered up at him was the time.

His face crumpled, and he sobbed, burying his face in his elbow and laying his head on the counter. They watched him cry, no one saying anything, everyone too scared to. This was a Tony they’d never seen before. Completely and utterly broken.

Tony sat up and rubbed his tear-filled eyes with both hands. He was a mess, with his tears and his snot and a little bit of puke staining his shirt. “I was… it was one of the best day’s I’d had in a while when it all… when it all went to…”

But then he shook his head. “That’s… that’s a bad language word. We don’t use those in this household.”

No one bothered to correct him.

“I promised myself that I wouldn’t cuss anymore…” he said, his voice slurred. “But then again, I promised myself I wouldn’t drink either, and here we are.”

He sighed, stringing his hands through his hair and just staring blankly at the counter. One minute passed. Two.

“Why did you promise that to yourself?” Clint asked.

“Impressionable minds… you know. Can’t be… spreading my… bad habits.”

“Impressionable minds? Did…” Steve’s eyes widen. “Did you and Pepper have a…?”

Tony snorted, trying to look up at Steve, but his eyes unfocused. “No, no… I wanted to… _still_ do, but… it was… we’re…” he sighed, shaking his head.

Nat sighed, reaching out for Tony. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You can answer some of our questions when you aren’t drunk or hungover.”

Tony grunted in protest but allowed her to drag him towards the fridge where she pulled out a cold piece of pizza and told him to eat it. Then they were heading upstairs, towards his room where Pepper was waiting. Tony tripped on the top step, but Nat caught him, helping him back up.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his eyes unfocused and his words still slurred.

Nat sighed, “Anytime.”

 

Steve paced. It had been exactly twenty-one hours since Tony had unleashed everything, and he was only just now getting over his hangover, and he said he refused to speak to any of them until he was completely better.

Pepper and Rhodey, of course, were exempt from this.

“He’s dragging it out. It doesn’t take this long to-”

“I know,” Nat said, cutting off Clint. “But he can’t wait forever.”

Just as she was saying this, Tony rounded the platform at the top of the stairs and trudged down to them with a sigh.

They waited for him to settle on the couch across from Nat and Clint, Steve choosing to stay standing. “So?”

Tony sighed. “What do you want from me?”

“Why?” Nat asked. “Why are you so…?”

“Jacked up?” Tony asked, then huffed a laugh. “You would be too… Who’d you all lose?”

“Buck. Sam. Wanda. The rest of the team,” Steve answered immediately.

“My family,” Clint supplied.

“Fury. Hill,” said Nat.

Tony nodded. “And you all… hurt. But you’ll be okay because they all knew what you were to them.”

Clint shook his head. “What do you mean?”

Tony waved a hand at him. “Take you for example. You’re a father. And your kids…” Tony’s voice dipped but he pressed on, “they loved you and you loved them and there were no secrets. Same with your wife.

“And then there’s Nat, who everyone knows was basically Fury’s murder-child.”

Nat smiled a little, her eyes glassy.

“And Bucky and Sam and Wanda, well, they all adored you to no end and vice versa, correct?” Tony asked, not quite meeting Steve’s eyes.

The super soldier nodded.

“Well… see that’s not how I…” his voice faltered, and he took a shuddering breath.

Tony looked up at them and his eyes were no longer empty but full to the brim. Filled with anguish, and sorrow, and terror, and _so much regret_. But there was love there too. More love than Steve would have thought possible for someone that had gone through what Tony had.

“His name…” Tony blinked a few times, “His name was Peter Parker. And he was everything to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if drunk tony doesn't seem accurate please tell me, and as usual, your feedback is always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!! Sorry for the wait, I had finals and Christmas and sturf so... thanks for the patience!

When it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else without prompting, Nat spoke up. “Why did he mean so much to you? And what about him made you stop using your lab? That’s like, your number one coping mechanism.”

Tony huffed a laugh, stringing both hands in his hair. “I stopped going to my lab because… because it’s where I failed… over and over and _over_ again,” he murmured, a single tear spilling over.

“Failed the world?” asked Steve, his voice hesitant and yet persistent all the same.

Tony shook his head, eyes unfocusing a bit. “Nah… that would have happened no matter what I did. Thanos jacked up one too many lives and I couldn’t have stopped the… the end. No, I failed him... Peter.”

“How so?” Clint asked, leaning forward.

Tony looked up at him with a shattered gaze. “He came to my lab at least once a week every week for _months._ ” He leaned all the way back and stared blankly at the ceiling. “And I never told him what he meant. He never… knew. He was constantly asking me if he was being annoying. He was constantly hesitating like he didn’t think what he was going to say was worth my time. He thought… he thought I felt _bad for him_ and that’s why I spent time with him.” Tony laughed bitterly. “And I never took the time to tell him otherwise.”

Steve shook his head after a moment. “I don’t understand. Who was he to you?”

Tony blinked like he was shocked that Steve didn’t get it, but then his expression melted into almost-amusement. “I forgot. You never met him. Officially anyway.” He swiped away a tear. “Well, I already bawled like a baby, might as well make my already unstable emotional health worse,” he muttered to himself, pulling his phone from his pocket and placing it on the table face-up. “FRIDAY, open intern file, subject: Parker, Peter.”

His phone turned on, a hologram blinking into existence just above it, showing a candid picture of Peter laughing with one arm thrown around Ned, the other around MJ. Tony took a shuddering breath. “Play.”

“Karen and I have taken the liberty of adding some additional footage that hadn’t initially been put in there, would you like to review it first?”

“That’s fine, FRIDAY, they may as well know.”

“Affirmative.”

And the video began to play. Tony clenched his jaw, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as Steve stepped forward in order to watch.

It began with the introduction to Peter’s original vlog

a Film by Peter Parker

 _“New York, Queens,”_ Peter’s voice in that stupid accent he did when he was trying to act cool. _“It’s a rough burrow, but hey, it’s home.”_

 _“Who you talkin’ to?”_ The camera whipped over to the back of Happy’s head.

 _“No one.”_ Hearing Peter’s voice for the first time since his death his Tony like a ton of bricks. _“Just making a little video of the trip.”_

_“You know you can’t show that to anyone.”_

_“Well, yeah, I know.”_

_“Then why are you narrating in that voice?”_

_“Uhhh, cause it’s fun!”_

Tony’s hands were shaking. Why were they always shaking?

_“Fine.”_

_“So, uhhhh... why d’they call you Happy?”_

Happy just reached up and pressed the button that rolled up the separating window until all you could see was the reflection of Peter holding his camera.

Then it flashed to a picture of an incoming call: from Peter Parker.

_“You have reached the voicemail box of: Happy Hogan.”_

_“Hey, Happy! Um, here’s my report for tonight. I stopped a grand theft bicycle, couldn’t find the owner so I just left a note,” Peter’s chipper voice came in, then was interrupted by the sound of him chewing something. “I helped this lost old Dominican lady,” he said around whatever he was eating. “She was really nice and bought me a churro. I’m just um… feel like I could be doing more. You know, just curious when our next real mission’s gonna be. So yeah, just call me back. It’s Peter… Parker.”_ The ache in Peter’s voice was obvious and it killed him.

_The voicemail icon melted away to black, but the audio continued, thanks to Karen recording in the suit. Peter’s sigh came through the audio, followed by: ‘Why would I tell him about the churro?”_

Tony smiled a little, but a new video was already playing.

_Peter was at the academic decathlon meet, ringing bell after bell and answering question after question, beaming like a child on Christmas every time his answer was confirmed as correct._

Then it transitioned to a security camera from Tony’s lab, recording the first time that Tony had invited him over to work.

_Peter’s jaw was hanging open as he spun around to take everything in. Tony was just visible at the edge of the recording, arms crossed and a proud little smirk on his face._

_“Oh. My. Word. Ned is going to flip his-”_

_“Language,” Tony barked, turning to walk over to his workbench. “You’re too young to be talking like that.”_

_Peter scrunched up his nose, but the look didn’t last long as his eyes jumped from project to project. He grinned. “I just… I don’t know how to…”_

_Tony laughed, turning around to look at the “intern” and lean back against the table. “Well? Do you wanna help me or not?”_

_Peter’s eyes bulged. “Help you?” he floundered around for words for a moment before gasping out: “Yes! Yes, that would be amazing!”_

Tony dragged a hand down his face as the recording sped up and showed a time lapses of the two working together on different projects. It sped through the course of a couple hours, only slowing back down to normal time when it started getting dark.

_Peter, at one table, glanced up to look at the time, then quickly back down at his project as if not acknowledging the time would make it go away. AC/DC was blaring through the speakers and Tony was mouthing the words, totally immersed in the coding for his newest nanotech._

_Peter muttered something under his breath, and Tony looked up. “What was that, kiddo?”_

_Peter shook his head, glaring down at the cartridge in his hands. “This fluid isn’t coming out a liquid and it’s pissing me off.”_

_Tony cocked his head, putting down his work and coming around to the table where Peter was at. “What’s wrong with your old formula?”_

_Peter snorted. “Nothing’s_ wrong _with it. That doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.”_

_Tony smiled a little. “Taking after the master, I see.”_

_Peter rolled his eyes. “Whatever old man.”_

_Tony crossed his arms. “Excuse me?”_

_Peter looked up and smiled innocently, blinking a few times. “Yes?”_

_Tony gave a disbelieving scoff. “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”_

What Tony wouldn’t have given to hear Peter tease him one last time.

_Peter’s jaw dropped, and he put a hand over his heart. “Mr. Stark, I can’t believe you’d ever say anything like that about me. I’m nothing if not respectful. In fact-”_

_Tony barked a laugh and flicked his nose. “Come on, Spider-baby, let’s see what you’ve got here.”_

_Peter looked actually offended this time. “Spider-_ Man _, Mr. Stark. Spider-Man.”_

_“Whatever you say, kid, whatever you say.”_

The video changed, showing again security footage of the lab, but this time there was no light streaming through the windows and Tony was alone.

_Tony typed a few different commands into his computer, then crossed his fingers and spun around in his chair. “Please work. Please-”_

_“Peter Parker is in trouble, boss,” FRIDAY said, her sterile voice sounding almost concerned._

Tony cursed to himself under his breath, remembering that day and the stress it had elicited.

_Tony jolted, eyes blown wide with fear and surprise. “Where is he?” he asked, springing from his chair and double-tapping his arc reactor._

The footage cut out and shifted to the empty med bay camera seconds before Iron Man blew through the double doors, carrying a limp Spider-Man in his arms.

_The suit retracted back into Tony’s reactor as he landed, and Tony practically sprinted over to the nearest cot, laying down the hero with the utmost gentleness. “You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine. It’s just a flesh wound. You’ll be up and annoying the crap out of Happy in no time. You’re gonna be swinging around Queens by next week,” Tony murmured, yanking off the mask to reveal Peter’s face._

_Peter’s eyes flickered open for a moment and he smiled a little as Tony pressed the spider emblem on his suit. “Have some faith… it’ll be by tomorrow.”_

_Tony huffed a little, but he was too preoccupied pulling off the puffy fabric to reply intelligently. The red of the suit had disguised most of the blood, but with Peter only in his boxers, the large gash on his right thigh was obvious._

_Peter shook his head, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion from adrenalin and the pain coming from his leg. “Don’t look. I’m indecent.”_

_Tony shook his head. “Why does it always end up like this with you?” he murmured, but Peter was too out of it to hear him._

_Tony hooked him up to some sort of sedative, muttering under his breath to himself the whole time. He managed to stitch up the wound with little complaint from Peter, due largely to the fact that the sedative he’d manufactured could’ve numbed the Hulk._

_“There. We’ll just have to keep it clean and then it’ll be good. It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” Tony said, brushing back Peter’s curls and then beginning to clean up the mess of pooled blood on and around the cot. “It’s going to be okay. You didn’t lose too much blood for an enhanced kid, did you? Damn, I wish Banner were here.”_

_“Hey!” Peter said, his head whipping over to where Tony was standing. “That’s a bad language word.”_

Tony winced at the phrase, remembering how he’d always repeat it to tease the teenager whenever he cussed.

_Tony managed a small smile, the tension leaking from his shoulders a bit. “Sorry, buddy.”_

_Peter frowned a little, then grinned. “Okay. I forgive you.”_

_Tony laughed and shook his head, but then his expression sobered. “You can’t keep doing this to me kiddo.”_

_“Doing what?” Peter asked._

_“Getting hurt.”_

_Peter frowned a little. “It comes with the job, though. So I’m probably going to keep getting hurt.”_

_Tony turned back to cleaning up the med bay. “I know,” he said, his tone resigned._

_Silence._

_“Why don’t you tell me when you get hurt though? Why do I have to wait for my AI to do it?” Tony finally asked, looking up._

_Peter cocked his head. “Why don’t you tell me when_ you _get hurt?”_

_Tony looked a little taken aback at this, before stuttering out: “Because… because I don’t want to worry you.”_

_Peter nodded matter-of-factly. “Exactly.”_

_“No, no, no. I’m the adult here. I don’t have to tell you-”_

_Peter’s expression turned stony. “That’s not how it works Mr. Stark.”_

_“And why not?!” Tony all but snapped._

_Peter sat up, pulling up the pillows behind him to prop himself up. “My dad died when I was four years old. My Uncle Ben was murdered two years ago. How would you like it if the only father-figure you had left got hurt all the time but refused to tell you? And then got mad at you for doing the same thing?” he asked, reaching up to scrub at a barely-fallen tear._

_Stunned silence._

_Peter sniffed. “I can’t do this without you,” he murmured._

_Tony crossed and uncrossed his arms, his expression shifting from angry to sad to a raw tenderness that rarely graced his features. He sighed and finished cleaning up the bed of any traces of blood. Peter slumped back against his pillows, almost looking disappointed. Then Tony lurched forward and brushed a kiss against his forehead._

_Peter blinked, surprised._

_“How about this,” Tony said, turning away to walk over to a dresser and pulling out a pair of iron man pajama pants and an AC/DC t-shirt. “I’ll tell you when I’m hurt if you do the same.” He spinned around to face Peter. “Deal?”_

_Peter nodded slowly, obviously fighting a smile. “Deal.”_

_Tony rolled his eyes good-naturedly, smirking a little. “Not that you’ll remember any of this tomorrow, as drugged up as you are.”_

Tony was walking back to Peter’s bed with the clothes when the video cut out.

It changed to a video of Tony’s phone screen. The messaging app opened, showing ten incoming texts from ‘Spider-Baby’.

_Yo are we still on for the movie on Saturday?_

_I know u told me yes like 1000 times but it’s not like we’ve ever done anything like this b4_

_Sry if im asking 2 much_

_I just feel like u have way more important things to be doing with ur time_

_Ok im going to shut up now_

_One more thing, may wants to know if you can keep me at the compound over the weekend_

_4 the record she’s the one asking not me_

_Is this considered spamming??_

_Sry if it is_

_Ok im ACTUALLY gonna shut up now_

‘Yes, we’re still on and yes you can come kiddo’ was quickly typed out and sent. The ‘typing’ bubble popped up almost immediately and ‘😅👍 🤩’ was sent back followed by an image of the newest Star Wars movie poster.

Tony’s smile was as bittersweet as the tears spilling from his eyes.

The rest of the footage was a montage of Spider-Man swinging in and saving cars and people and animals, and Peter working on stuff in the lab with Tony, and him with his friends working on Decathlon flashcards, and of Tony watching the baby monitor when he had nothing else to do, or of the two of them laying on the couch and binge-watching crap on Netflix.

The final set of clips opened on the two of them working on one of Tony’s cars together.

_Tony pulled himself out from underneath the car and held out his hand. Peter placed a tool in his hand without even asking what was needed, and Tony rolled back underneath. He grunted with effort due to whatever he was working on under there, but Peter’s yawn was still heard over it._

_Tony rolled back out. “You tired, bud?”_

_Peter shrugged, leaning back a bit and stretching. “Not really. I can go pretty long without sleeping,” he said, but the bags under his eyes told a different story._

_Tony sat up and put the tool back in its place before standing. “Well I for one don’t believe you, and I’m feeling a bit put out myself, so why don’t we go watch something and put ourselves out?”_

_Peter looked reluctantly back at the car, but Tony was already getting up and putting away his tools. “Come on. Let’s get changed and meet up on the couch.”_

The footage shifted to the security camera in the living room, where the two, newly changed, were curled up on the couch, sifting through channels.

_Peter made him stop when SpongeBob showed up, and Tony sighed in resignation, throwing one arm around him and pulling him closer._

_It wasn’t long before Peter was out, head resting against Tony’s shoulder. Tony shook his head and slid out from under him. He turned and scooped Peter up in his arms, turning and trudging up the stairs towards Peter’s room._

_The scene followed them up the stairs through the security cameras and into Peter’s room where Tony lay Peter down in his bed and drew the covers up around him. He pulled back to leave, but Peter, apparently not completely asleep, circled his hand around Tony’s wrist and tugged slightly._

_“Stay,” came the soft whisper._

_Tony hesitated only for a moment before sliding underneath the covers with him and wrapping one arm around him._

_Peter snuggled closer, not completely in touch with reality. “’Night dad.” He murmured._

_It was too dark in the room to see much, but it was enough to see Tony tense in shock. Then he relaxed, his expression melting into a strange mix of elation, fear, and affection. “Goodnight, kiddo,” he whispered._

The footage cut out.

No one said a word. Tony looked up at the people he once considered a family. “So now you know.”

Clint shook his head. “But he isn’t your kid?”

Tony’s expression sharpened. “He damn well is my kid!” Then he slumped, defeat pulling at every inch of his brain. “He just… he didn’t know it.”

“But not biologically?”

Tony looked up. “No, not biologically. But in every way that matters.”

Nat sighed, pressing her palms against her eyelids. “I think I understand now,” she said, tilting her head back and forth to crack her neck.

Tony shook his head, already tired of trying to explain to them who Peter was. “No you don’t. Thank you for trying to, but… you can’t.” You couldn’t really explain Peter. It was like trying to explain sunshine. You just had to bask in his warmth and witness the life he brought forth to truly comprehend him. “And he’s gone now. So you’ll never be able to. Not really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that Peter has a security camera in his bedroom? We're going to say no. We're going to say he changes in his bathroom, so it's chill.
> 
> Sorry for the angst. It's probably not going to get better, sorry. It might though. Who knows? I sure don't. Also, sorry if the italics and the weird transitions don't make sense. I am kind of posting this at one in the morning so... criticism his helpful in this case!

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on my Tumblr which is https://www.tumblr.com/blog/denyingmyselfalways  
> just so you know. I'm kind of new to the whole Tumblr thing, so if anything is wrong with my post or the master list I just created on there, please message me on Tumblr, thanks!


End file.
